I Want You To Be: Interlude
by HailParadise
Summary: An extended interlude in the life of our boys the summer after our last fic took place. This summer is planning on being so fluffy that you will want to die.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This story is a continuation of "I Want You To Be," set the summer after that ends. While it is not strictly necessary to have read that in order for this story to make sense, I highly recommend it. _

_A huge thanks to my beta, alianne, who is responsible for 92% of the polish and 56% of the correctly used commas you see before you (any incorrectly used commas are completely my own)._

_And just so we're clear, I do not own Glee._

* * *

><p><em>Interlude<em>

Kurt was halfway to the front door before he realized Blaine wasn't following. After backpedaling to the car, Kurt tugged on the passenger side door handle.

Blaine had locked it from inside. Rolling his eyes, he pushed the unlock button on his keys. Quick as lightening, Blaine locked it again. After repeating the useless cycle a few more times, Kurt tersely rapped on the window.

"Blaine! You are being ridiculous." Kurt put his hands on his hips and leveled his boyfriend with his best intimidating glare. Blaine, for his part, resolutely stared straight ahead. Kurt growled.

"Blaine. Open this door right now." Blaine emphatically shook his head. Kurt sighed and went around to the driver's side door, unlocking it once more and climbing back into his Navigator next to his mute statue of a boyfriend. After spending a long moment with both of them looking straight ahead, Kurt began to speak again, his tone curt and the words clipped. He was trying very hard to be nice.

"I have absolutely no clue where you got this idea from, but you certainly aren't planning on letting go of it anytime soon, are you?" Kurt really wasn't looking for an answer, and was not stymied by the lack of response. Continuing, he tried, and failed, to keep his annoyance out of his voice.

"For Gaga's sake, Blaine, you've known my father for years. Never once has he threatened you with any bodily harm. I don't see why today should be any different."

"Of course it's different."

"Behold, a miracle. The mute speaks." Kurt commented sardonically. Blaine broke his forward stare briefly to give Kurt a withering glance.

"And exactly how many boyfriends have you brought home?"

"None, you know that."

"Exactly. So this is your father's first chance to pull out the shotgun and interrogation routine."

"He doesn't own a shotgun, Blaine."

Blaine continued as if he hadn't heard what Kurt said.

"In fact, I think the fact that you've denied him this for so many years is going to make it even worse. There may be flaying involved. Nope, I am not going in that house." Blaine turned to give Kurt his resolved face.

"Ok, then I'm just going to go in there myself. I am going to unpack my belongings, say hello to Finn, and then Carole and my father are going to want me to sit down with them at the kitchen table, have a tea party, and tell them all about my sophomore year at college."

Blaine raised his eyebrow.

"Ok, I'm not sure if the tea party bit is an attempt to screw with me or not, but that's a little ridiculous. They already know all about your year at college. You called them at least twice a week, and came home a few times every month. They are more involved in your life than any parents I've ever known."

Kurt looked down his nose at Blaine and his eyes turned slightly icier. Blaine knew that his implications were rapidly pushing him into dangerous territory.

"I assure you, Blaine, I am not screwing with you. My Dad and I are not exactly good at spending a lot of time away from each other, or at least we never used to be." Kurt's tone softened slightly. "It was just the two of us for so long, and having tea together whenever we did return from whatever separated us was a way to feel like a family again. Like it was the three of us."

Blaine spoke softly in understanding.

"Because you used to have tea parties with your mother too."

Kurt gave him the barest ghost of a smile to let Blaine know that he wasn't actually upset before continuing. As annoyed as he was, they knew each other too well to let spats like this one degenerate into real fights.

"And you're right, they already know everything that happened to me. Meaning they already know that we've been dating. For months. They expect you to come inside with me."

Blaine's eyes widened, almost comically as he got even more flustered.

"Meaning that your father has had all this time of knowing that his son has a boyfriend and not being able to intimidate and terrorize said boyfriend, and has been storing up all of his malicious energy for a perfectly timed and ferocious strike."

Kurt couldn't help but laugh. This conversation was beyond absurd.

"Right. So I guess you have two choices. Come inside and get it over with, or sit out in my car for the next 6 hours. I'll leave it up to you." With that, Kurt smoothly got out of the car and strode into his house.

_I give him ten minutes._

...

Burt looked up and broke into a grin as his son came through the door and quickly ran into his waiting arms.

"Blaine?" Burt instilled volumes into that simple query. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Oh, he's hiding in the car." Burt barked out a laugh and gave his son a conspiratorial wink.

"I give him ten minutes."

...

Fifteen minutes later a sheepish curly head peeked into the kitchen. Burt briefly lowered his teacup and fixed the new arrival with an appraising stare.

"I'm impressed." Blaine hovered uncertainly, not knowing what to make of the statement.

"I'm sorry?" He asked finally. Burt smiled and instantly Blaine felt himself starting to relax.

"You held out a good five minutes longer than we gave you credit for." Burt was still smiling as he nodded to an open chair. Blaine slid into it gratefully, feeling himself return the smile. This sort of good-natured teasing he was used to handling in the Hummel-Hudson household. Carole winked at him as she passed him a cup of tea.

"Of course, this means I have higher standards to hold you to when I interrogate you on your intentions regarding my son later."

Blaine choked a little on his tea.

...

A couple of hours later, as the boys carried Kurt's belongings up to his room, Kurt noticed that Blaine kept shooting these little furtive glances over his shoulder.

"You know he was just teasing you, right?"

"What?" Blaine whipped himself back around to face his boyfriend, stumbling slightly into the wall as the box he was carrying threw him off balance. Kurt bit back a smile.

"He's not really going to interrogate you."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Blaine sounded entirely unconvinced as he dropped the box and sat uncomfortably on the edge of Kurt's bed. Kurt took a minute to hang up the clothes he was carrying and then walked over to drop bonelessly onto the bed with his head falling onto his boyfriend's lap. Blaine gave a guilty little jump, his eyes instantly darting to the open doorway. Kurt closed his eyes briefly as he tried to keep his voice level.

"Blaine. This is going to be a very long summer if you refuse to even touch me with my father in the house."

"And since when is there any touching going on?" Burt's voice sounded from the doorway, rich with amusement, but from Blaine's reaction you would have thought the words had come from the devil himself. Blaine jerked wildly, nearly toppling Kurt off the bed and flailed his arms briefly before lacing his fingers at the back of his head, his hands as far from his boyfriend as possible. Belatedly realizing that this stance could be interpreted as one of enjoyment while his boyfriend's face was very close to certain parts of him, Blaine flushed deeply and crossed his arms stiffly across his chest. Kurt sat up and gave him an incredulous look. Burt took pity on the kid.

"Look, Blaine, you need to relax a little, son. Let's make something completely clear here." Blaine looked at him with slightly wild eyes, waiting for the axe to fall. "I have absolutely no problem with you dating my son. You're a good kid, and if you two hadn't figured it out on your own, I was firmly planning on locking you up here together this summer until you did." Burt was met with two identical, comical stares of shock and the beginnings of glee. He raised a cautioning hand.

"Now I'm not saying I'm too keen on the idea of coming home to you guys getting up to whatever it is you're going to be doing up here. So while Carole or I are home, the door stays open." Both boys continued looking at him, speechless. Burt sighed.

"Now, if you really want an interrogation, that can be arranged. But seriously kid, I was starting to think that if I looked at you the wrong way, you would be the next one with a heart attack in this house." Burt allowed himself a chuckle and was rewarded with smiles from both boys, genuine if still a little strained on Blaine's part. Burt paused on his way back down the hall.

"Oh, and Kurt? I'm going to be going on a trip Thursday until Sunday. Carole is planning on going with me, and while I trust Finn to be looking after the shop, I don't trust him to not spend every single night at Rachel's. I know you're an adult now, but I would personally feel better knowing you weren't alone in the house. Why don't you ask someone to stay with you? I think if he survives the stroke he's currently having, Blaine will probably be free." Smirking, Burt walked down the stairs. Torturing this kid was really too easy.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Welcome to part two of the extended interlude! Thanks again to the lovely alianne for her superb betaing skills. _

_And also, I'm sorry that the interlude isn't getting posted with with same ferocious regularity as IWYTB. But get used to it. Because unlike when I wrote that last story ... I have a job! Whoo-hoo._

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><p>Thursday found Blaine sitting in his car in Kurt's driveway, seriously debating not going inside. However, he was pretty sure that he would never hear the end of it should Kurt realize that Blaine was considering a repeat of Tuesday.<p>

And this time, Burt wasn't even home.

Gripping the steering wheel tightly, Blaine took a moment to attempt to organize his thoughts. He knew he was being ridiculous. He had absolutely no reason to waste his entire summer being terrified of his boyfriend's father. Particularly seeing as this was the same guy that had, against all odds, grown to consider his son's best friend as an honorary part of the family, despite the fact that two of his first interactions with him involved him being drunkenly passed out in Kurt's bed, and then cornering him for an ill advised and entirely inappropriate "you should have a sex talk" talk.

_Wow. I am a douche._

Blaine felt his body slump forward as he let his forehead rest against the steering wheel. God, this was even worse than when Burt was home. With Burt home the worst Kurt was going to do would be to try and kiss him. But now, with the house to themselves, Kurt would want to do other things, things involving nudity and orgasms, and oh god, the entire time the pictures of Burt and Carole would be watching them, and the bed that they probably had sex in would be right down the hall.

Blaine would be having sex in the same house as his boyfriend's father's underwear.

The intensity of his thoughts caught Blaine completely by surprise. While he had always been raised to be respectful of others, the proper little gentleman, he was still a teenage boy. It never occurred to him that anything would actually be strong enough to kill his sex drive. Not to mention the fact that regardless of whatever insane freak out he was currently having, Blaine really wanted to spend time with his boyfriend this summer. The naked parts notwithstanding.

"I am an idiot."

"Why? Are you stoned?" Blaine jumped in his seat and turned to regard Puck in surprise.

"What?"

Puck shrugged, looking entirely unperturbed.

"Well, you're sitting in the driver's seat and calling yourself an idiot. I only do that when I'm too fucked up to drive." Puck paused to fix Blaine with what he probably considered to be an intimidating glare. The scary part was, it sort of worked.

"And take it from me man, that shit is fucked up. Even I know better than that."

Blaine managed to choke words out around his surprise that Puck was actually talking to him. Worse, he was actually making some twisted sort of sense.

"Thank you for the public service announcement."

"No problem, dude. You coming or going?" Puck indicated the front door with a jerk of his head.

Blaine paused before answering. He had a feeling he was in for a very weird night.

"I guess I'm coming." Puck leered at him as he got out of the car.

"You know dude, not that I'm not flattered and all, but I bet Hummel was kind of hoping you were saving that for later tonight."

Blaine seriously considered getting back in his car.

...

Finn glanced up from the couch as Blaine followed Puck through the front door.

"Dude!" He called excitedly, his face splitting into a wide grin as his eyes fell on Blaine. "Call of Duty night. You in?"

Blaine glanced over at Kurt who was leaning against the wall, a bemused expression on his face. He rolled his eyes at Blaine, the "go ahead, I know you want to," implicit in his actions. Blaine couldn't help but return Finn's grin. They may have had a rocky start, but as time went on, Blaine had developed a genuine fondness for the guy. And if Finn was ready to monopolize his time for the night, well, he just might have to nominate him for sainthood.

"Wouldn't miss it."

...

The tournament finally concluded when Puck won by default, as both Blaine, and eventually Finn, had fallen asleep, controllers dropping from numb fingers onto a ground littered with popcorn kernels and empty Mountain Dew cans.

"Hah!" Puck's victorious shout jerked the other boys awake.

"No! No no no, what happened?" Finn exclaimed in shock. Blaine raised his eyebrow at the distraught wails emanating from the taller boy. "Dude! That's totally bogus."

Puck proceeded to ignore his friend's ranting and pleas for a rematch, and instead did his self-titled, "Puckasaurus booty dance of victory" around the living room. With a bone popping stretch, Blaine stood, pausing only to brush a few forgotten crumbs from his pants.

"That was fun, guys. Catch you later."

"Wait, where are you going?" Finn stammered out, stopping Blaine before he reached the stairs, his video game woes instantly forgotten.

"To bed? It's after midnight."

"Where? Upstairs?"

Puck barked out a laugh before Blaine could answer.

"You didn't expect him to go home when he has a sweet little piece of ass waiting for him and no Burt in sight to pull out the shotgun, did you?"

Finn just gaped at them.

"Burt doesn't own a shotgun. And, dude! It's not cool to talk about my brother that way."

Puck held up his hands, palms out in a universal "don't shoot the messenger" signal.

"Chill out. It was a compliment."

Blaine decided that he really didn't want to think too hard about the things Puck had been saying tonight and decided that as painful as it was, he could actually use this situation to his advantage.

"Finn," Blaine started, always quick to placate. "I'm just going upstairs to sleep. I promise. We can even shake on it, if you want."

"Oh, that is so not cool." Puck shook his head in disgust, though which boy it was aimed at wasn't really clear. Finn narrowed his eyes in distrust.

"Why? What's in it for you?"

Blaine made a show of sighing.

"Finn, you've been a really good friend to me these last few years. And I know that you genuinely think of Kurt as a brother, which, I personally think is really amazing. I would never want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable, your relationship with Kurt is way too important for that."

Finn briefly considered his words before answering, the silence stretching on for long enough that Blaine started to question whether he had laid it on a little too thick.

"So ... are you saying that you and Kurt don't ... you know?" Not exactly the response Blaine had been hoping for.

"What? No." Blaine felt himself beginning to get flustered. "I'm just saying that we won't "you know" with you in the house." The 'you know' had been positively dripping with snark. God, Kurt was rubbing off on him.

"Oh, ok. Cool." Finn's relief was palpable; oblivious to the disgusted eyes his best friend had been giving him.

"Ok, then." With one last nod of assurance, Blaine continued his trek to the stairs.

"Wait!" Oh great, now he sounded even more distraught. Blaine wondered if this whole conversation would essentially be moot as Finn wasn't ever going to let him even reach the stairs.

"What, Finn?" Blaine tried to keep from sounding too testy. Finn didn't know it, but he was ultimately doing Blaine a favor, after all.

"I didn't mean to imply that it's not totally cool you guys are gay and all." Blaine let out a disbelieving little laugh, which only served to spurn Finn on. "Because it is! Totally cool. I just don't want to see it ... or hear it ... you know, because he's my brother and all that." Finn concluded after a pause for thought, then immediately bestowed Blaine with a gratified look that would have seemed more appropriate after a treatise for world peace rather than some rather unintentionally insulting, if still somewhat sweet, babbling.

Blaine paused, unsure of the best way to respond. Meanwhile, Puck was giving him these eyes that were made up of equal parts "dude, I'm so sorry," and the more cynical and lewd "I totally know what you guys are going to do up there once Finn lets you get away and the naïve bastard will never even know." Blaine's discomfort steadily growing with Puck's smirk, he settled for a simple thanks.

"Thank you, Finn." Finn beamed at him and Blaine took that as his cue to leave with as much grace and dignity as was left to him. As he finally walked up the stairs, he could hear Puck's voice floating behind him.

"If cockblocking were a sport, you would be the varsity captain."

Blaine couldn't help but smile; pretty sure that Finn would assume anything with the words "varsity captain" in them had to be a compliment.

...

However, that smile rapidly shrank, as Kurt's door loomed closer. Pausing only to send off a quick prayer that Kurt would have already fallen asleep, Blaine took a deep breath and opened the door as quietly as possible.

To find Kurt. Sitting at his desk. Wide awake. Writing an email the length of a small novel, or so it would seem.

"You're still awake." Kurt gave him a weird look over his shoulder. Blaine thought it was most likely because his attempt to sound excited had come out more like a cat being strangled.

"Are we disappointed, or is that our new turned on voice?" Blaine blanched.

"Sorry, I was just surprised is all. It's late."

"Uh-huh." The strange look didn't waver, but apparently Kurt decided to take pity on him.

"Did you have fun?"

"Yeah, sure." Wiping suddenly sweaty hands on his thighs, Blaine went to sit on the only remaining seat open. The Bed. He must have looked even more uncomfortable than he thought, because Kurt's expression rapidly gave way to one of concern.

"Blaine? Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired."

"Ooooook." Kurt responded slowly. "Well, lets just get ready for bed then. Where's your stuff?" Blaine jumped up from the bed, relieved for the respite.

"I left it downstairs." Blaine blurted out excitedly. Kurt's eyebrows had by this point taken up permanent residence in his hairline.

"Have you always been this strange?"

"Yes." Blaine replied shortly, gratefully making his escape to the judgment free safety of the downstairs hallway.

...

Said safety proved to be deceptive, however. As he headed back upstairs, duffel bag in tow, Puck brushed by him in the hallway with a manly and mildly incapacitating clap to the shoulder.

"You go hit that, Anderson."

By this point in the night, Blaine was feeling more than a little sick.

...

Fifteen minutes later, Blaine returned to Kurt's bedroom, clothed in his most comfortable yet rattiest sweatpants. See, he had a plan. Kurt hated those sweatpants. He had called them an insult to the name of clothing, a blight on the spectrum of humanity, once he had even gone so far as to claim that they would fittingly garb only the criminally insane.

No matter what thoughts Kurt entered this night with; the merest hint of these sweatpants should be an instant boner kill.

Or so Blaine thought.

...

The lights were out, the door was shut, and Blaine had already cocooned himself in a wall of blankets when he felt the weight of a freshly moisturized boy dip the bed behind him. For a few minutes Blaine just lay there and felt the warmth of another body seep into him. For the first time all night, Blaine felt himself start to fully relax in the way he only ever did when his senses filled with the indefinable presence that was Kurt.

More minutes passed, and Blaine felt the last of the tension leeching from his body. He didn't know why he had gotten himself so worked up. After all, he and Kurt slept in the same bed all the time at college without there ever being the mandate that cuddling and sleeping turn into something more. They had a very healthy relationship, chock full of time spent just enjoying each other's company. Why should tonight be any different?

Of course, Blaine's time of relaxed bliss was too good to be true. Just as he began to drift off, he felt long smooth fingers sliding over his hip to rest just under the elastic waistband of his sweatpants.

His disgusting, ratty, boner kill ratified, sweatpants. Yeah right.

Blaine instinctively jerked away hard enough to practically strangle himself with the blankets. Kurt instantly took his hand back, and instead of showing the same loving annoyance that he had been displaying in response to this newly discovered quirk of his boyfriend's, this time his eyes filled with hurt.

Blaine instantly felt his insides turn to ice. All of a sudden his stupid hang up was more than just an annoyance. It had the potential to really screw up his relationship.

"Kurt." He spoke quickly, reaching out to snag his boyfriend's wrist before he could completely pull away. "I'm so sorry, I know I'm being ridiculous."

The hurt in Kurt's eyes softened only slightly.

"Blaine, tell me the truth. Is there something more going on here? Is there some other reason why you don't want me to touch you anymore?"

Blaine's eyes widened in panic. Shit, when had this gotten so serious?

"No, Kurt, I swear. It's just different when we're here. No matter how hard I try, I can't get the image of how your father would react if he walked in on us here out of my head." Blaine moved quickly to cut Kurt off as he started to respond with the obvious. "And yes, I know he's not home, I already covered the fact that I'm absolutely ridiculous."

"Blaine." Kurt spoke slowly, making sure to meet Blaine's eyes though the latter boy ached to drop them as he felt his face heating up. "You basically saw how my father would react the other day. He would be embarrassed, and we would be mortified, but in the end, I'm pretty sure it's something we could all laugh about." He reached out to slide warm fingers across and under his boyfriend's jaw before continuing.

"He knows that we're having sex Blaine. And yet, he has shown no sign to indicate a need to protect my honor in any sort of fashion, violent or otherwise."

Blaine responded with a pitiful little half-whimpering sound.

"Kurt. You're asking me to have sex in the same house with your father's underwear."

And with that simple statement, all of the tension in the room broke. Wracked with an explosion of sudden laughter, both boys collapsed together on the bed in a comfortable tangle of limbs. This continued for several minutes, as every time one would get himself under control, a side long glance at the other, or an under-the-breath snort that sounded suspiciously like "underwear," would set them both off again. As his breathing finally began to calm down, Blaine managed to break the pattern.

"Besides, I promised your brother."

All laughter instantly forgotten, Kurt turned to his boyfriend with a stare filled with ice.

"You, what?"

"I promised your brother that we wouldn't do anything?"

"Is that a statement or a question, Blaine Anderson?"

"Hey, remember when we were laughing over your father's underwear a minute ago? That was fun."

Kurt pointed a long pale finger at his face, a sure sign that he was again in dangerous territory.

"Don't try and change the subject. What on earth would possess you to talk with Finn about our sex life?"

"It wasn't exactly my idea." Blaine answered, meekly.

Kurt's only response was to let out all of his breath in an exasperated huff.

"Kurt?" Blaine ventured after a moment of silence. "Does this mean I should go sleep on the couch?" He couldn't be sure in the darkness of the bedroom, but he was almost positive he saw the corner of Kurt's mouth ghosting up in the barest hint of a smile.

"I don't think that will be necessary." Kurt paused to present his boyfriend with the full force of his stare. "But don't think even for a minute that you're going to be getting any tonight."

And with the absurdity of that mock threat, both boys again lost themselves in helpless giggles and the warm tangle of each other's arms. Unknown to the other, both boys finally drifted off to sleep thinking the exact same thought.

It felt like home.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Here it is folks, the final part of our extended interlude. Thanks again to the brilliant alianne for helping me find the write way to conclude Kurt and Blaine's little ... issue. ;)_

_Stay tuned for year two that will probably be appearing early next month. And if you're interested in seeing a little more of my creative process, or just want to say hi, make sure to come see me at my tumblr (same name). Because my number of followers has risen to a whopping ... 4. Yes, that's right. 4._

_Thanks for sticking with this!_

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><p>Friday morning marked the beginning of a new phase in Kurt and Blaine's relationship. Years later, Kurt liked to refer to it as "my ingenious plan to bring Blaine and my father together in the bonds of friendship and family."<p>

Blaine, on the other hand, liked to call it "when Kurt made it his mission to flaunt our sex life daily and taunt his father with reasons to cause me gross bodily harm."

But, at the time, Blaine didn't notice that there was any sort of master plan going on at all. All he knew was that after explaining his freak out to Kurt, his boyfriend had seemed to completely understand. The rest of the week was filled with nothing but gentle hugs and chaste touches and hours spent just basking in each others presence and falling asleep to the sound of each other's breathing.

It wasn't until Burt returned home that Blaine began to realize that the last few days of bliss had been nothing but the eye of the hurricane.

...

It started off innocently enough. Kurt reached over and twined his fingers through Blaine's as his hand rested on the table over dinner one night. Blaine shot Kurt a distracted half smile and continued his conversation with Burt about how he was still trying to figure out what he wanted to major in. At least this small amount of contact didn't seem to make Blaine uncomfortable. Emboldened by his success, Kurt leaned over to place a gentle kiss on his boyfriend's cheek, as close to the corner of his mouth as possible, after he said something particularly cute. Blaine stiffened briefly, but as the only consequence was Carole asking him if he would like more potatoes, his discomfort was extremely short-lived.

It was probably best that Burt was the only one to notice Kurt's self satisfied smirk. Stage one had gone off just swimmingly.

...

Stage two proved to be slightly more difficult to initiate. Whenever Kurt's lips sought out his boyfriends with any other family members in the house, Blaine was magically imbued with the slippery properties of an eel. No matter how hard he tried, he could only ever catch cheek.

And the worst part was that Blaine was somehow managing to make it look like he wasn't avoiding his boyfriend's attempts at affection at all, but rather, always managed to present his face in just the right way to make it look like Kurt was getting what he aimed for every time. So Kurt couldn't even commiserate with Carole, whom he was pretty sure would understand his frustrations if she ever saw it happening.

It was infuriating.

Finally, Kurt came to the conclusion that there was no way around it, if he wanted to kiss Blaine in front of his father (and god, how wrong did this train of thought sound), he would just have to bodily pin down his elusive boyfriend to do so. And though Kurt had a couple of inches on him, he knew from experience that Blaine was very capable of getting out from under him when he wanted to.

And usually that trait was quite fun. But not at the moment.

So Kurt laid in wait until the opportune moment to put his plan in motion. The next week found Kurt and Blaine alone in the living room watching "The Princess Bride." They had started side by side on the couch with Kurt idly tracing patterns on Blaine's leg with light brushes of his fingertips. Confident that his boyfriend would be too distracted by his effusing love of quoting the film to notice how soon Burt would be home from the shop, Kurt eventually slid into his lap, confining himself to a bright smile and a chaste nuzzle into his cheek.

Though he shifted a few times as if uncomfortable, Blaine quickly settled back into the movie, his hand coming to rest automatically on Kurt's hip. Eyes brightening with excitement as Inigo finally confronted his father's killer, Blaine even grew so bold (or at least distracted) as to hook his chin over his boyfriend's shoulder, chanting along softly into his ear.

And then the relaxed tableau was shattered with the thud of the front door closing. Blaine instantly pulled back, all of his muscles tightening for flight, but Kurt irritably wrapped his calves snug around Blaine's legs, and pushed backwards, grinding Blaine into the couch and refusing to budge an inch.

"Kurt, come on." Blaine hissed, his voice coming out more strangled by the minute.

Kurt ignored him entirely, and instead rang out with a chipper, "Hi, Dad! How was work?"

Blaine closed his eyes as Burt came into the room, waiting for the inevitable blow to fall.

"Busy," Burt replied shortly, but his gruff tones were quickly replaced with concern as he saw Blaine's face.

"What's wrong with you, kid? Stomach cramps?"

Blaine cracked open one eye to see whom Burt was talking to. Because it couldn't possibly be him. No way would he show any sort of concern for the guy that was currently being pinned to the couch by his son. But the expression in Burt's eyes was one of genuine confusion and worry so Blaine decided that it would be necessary to garble out some sort of acceptable reply.

"Yeah, something like that."

Kurt twisted around, cooing gently, and only the two men in this room knew him well enough to detect the twisted glee hidden within his honeyed sweetness.

"Honey, you should have said something. I'll go make you some tea." And before sliding off of his lap, Kurt leaned forward and pressed a gentle and lingering kiss to his lips. Blaine's eyes squeezed closed again in a panic, but there was literally nowhere he could go. Kurt's legs were still vice-like against his own, and under the guise of a comforting touch, Kurt's hand against his shoulder was like an iron shackle pinning him to the back of the couch.

And then in a warm breath of air, Kurt was gone, leaving Blaine open and exposed to any and all of the sources of torment that Burt could devise.

But strangely enough, when he met his eyes, there was still only that same expression of gentle concern there.

"Well, make sure to tell Carole when she gets home if you're still not feeling well. She makes a great chicken soup."

"Thank you." Blaine's voice crackled out, still unable to believe that Burt was being this nice to him after his son was practically straddling his lap.

Maybe he could make it through this summer after all.

...

The next phase of Kurt's plan proved to be difficult for an entirely different set of reasons. Unlike his responses to Kurt's romantic overtures, Blaine didn't resist stage 3 at all. Oh no, in fact, he was thrilled by it.

Kurt, on the other hand, was bored out of his skull.

Kurt had decided that before he could push the physical side of their new domestic situation, he had to work a little bit to rekindle the level of friendship that Blaine and his father used to share. Because it was obvious that all of that flew out the window, as far as Blaine was concerned, as soon as the word "boy" was dropped in front of "friend."

And this meant a lot of time watching sports.

And it wasn't like Kurt could just sit Blaine in front of the television and go off to work on some project or another like he used to when they were just friends. Oh, no. Now that they were dating, Blaine seemed to feel that whenever he came over, every second had to be spent being the perfect, attentive, loving boyfriend superglued to Kurt's hip.

For someone so scared of physical contact he sure did seek it out a lot.

So in order to ensure that the bonding time occurred, Kurt was forced to chaperone it. And don't misunderstand; Kurt had nothing against the occasional football or baseball game. Growing up with his father, and later with Finn as well, sports were a kind of ever-present hum or white noise that floated around the background of their house.

But watching sports on tv didn't even give one a good excuse to wear a new scarf. So as far as Kurt was concerned, it was a necessary evil, but one he would have to stick out.

Luckily for Kurt, it only took a couple of weeks of mind numbing, _I would rather be drilling a hole into my skull than sit on this couch any longer_, boredom before phase 3 paid off.

Kurt had been drifting lazily on the couch only to be shocked awake by a loud roar. Struggling into consciousness to prepare himself for the invading army that was obviously storming his living room, Kurt was met with the sight of his boyfriend catapulting excitedly off the couch next to him (yes, literally catapulting), and into his father's arms.

A bunch of strangers winning some game did odd things to the male psyche.

But after a routine of manly clapping on the back, Blaine spun around and grabbed Kurt's hands, eyes glowing with a fire that Kurt hadn't seen all summer, and pulled his shocked boyfriend into a steamy kiss.

After an agonizingly beautiful 20 seconds that Kurt spent without any oxygen reaching his brain, he broke away to stare into his boyfriend's flushed face in surprise and delight. Though he was blushing furiously, Blaine didn't seem to regret his impulsive action at all.

Kurt was suddenly reminded of the way Blaine looked that night in the hall the first time they kissed. There was the same element of surprise at his own actions, but matched with a sincere happiness that seemed to radiate out from every pore in his face.

Kurt wanted to spend the rest of his life finding new ways to bring out that look in his boyfriend's eyes.

Almost as one, both boys glanced shyly over to Burt to see his reaction to their decidedly not chaste display. His expression was not a difficult one to decipher.

He was proud.

Proud of the man his son had become. Proud of the man that he had brought into their lives and their home. Proud of the way that every time they looked at each other, their gazes always said the same thing.

You matter. No matter how many times the world tries to tell you otherwise, tries to knock you down or throw a slushie in your face, you matter. You matter to me.

You're worth it.

All three stood there for a minute, basking in their new sense of family, before Blaine pulled Kurt in for another, much gentler, kiss.

"Dude!" Finn's frustrated cry instantly broke the two boys apart. Blaine spun to face him, mind racing with the absurd thought that after all of this he would still have to censor his actions toward Kurt in this house because of his idiotic brother.

Kurt apparently had the same idea.

"What, Finn?" He snapped. Blaine held his breath, waiting for Finn's reply, afraid of what vaguely homophobic variation of the brother speech they were about to get.

"You're blocking the tv." For one long moment all of the men of the Hudmel household just stared at each other. And then the laughter came, bubbling up out of Blaine's chest to be answered with an exasperated giggle from Kurt and a deep chuckle from Burt behind them.

Finn, for his part, merely looked at his stepfather in confusion.

"What's so funny?"

...

Later that week Kurt spent some time instigating the later phases of his plan. But these were most definitely done with Burt out of the house.

And all Kurt could think was that Blaine was worth waiting for in so many ways.

Not that Kurt didn't continue to push Blaine when his family was around. It became a sort of perverse game, how many licks does it take to get through the shell of that dapper exterior, to get the blush, get the stammer, get the flustered and exasperated cry of "Kurt!" This game could be played with a touch, a look, a subtly veiled lewd comment (or not so subtle if Finn was the one in the room).

And once they were alone again, the room would be filled with embarrassed yet relieved giggles.

Relieved because Kurt could push, and Blaine could push back, and they would still always end up tangled in each other's arms. Despite the rocky start, this summer ended up being one both boys would think of fondly for the rest of their lives. An oasis between the stress of their first year living together, and the trials they were unknowingly about to face in their next year of school.

But that, my friends, is a story for another time.


	4. Deleted Scene

__A/N - __Here it is folks, sorry about the delay, I seemed to have trouble writing more than a paragraph or a two at a time without getting horribly self conscious. But apparently I'm feeling brave tonight, because I'm sharing my first attempt to write anything higher than a pg-13 rating with the world. Thanks so much to **alianne**for being an incredible beta and believing in my sex writing abilities when I didn't really believe in them myself.__

_This scene takes place near the end of part 3 of the interlude, which should be pretty obvious if you've read it. If not, this could totally work as a stand alone as long as you understand that Blaine has been reticent (more like terrified) to have sex in Kurt's parent's house, and so they have gone for over a month barely even kissing._

_Feedback is definitely appreciated in case I want to try writing something like this again. Enjoy!_

_I do not own._

* * *

><p><em>Later that week Kurt spent some time instigating the later phases of his plan. But these were most definitely done with Burt out of the house.<em>

_And all Kurt could think was that Blaine was worth waiting for in so many ways._

...

Kurt paused in the doorway of his room to bestow Blaine with a fond smile as he messed around with his laptop, trying to find the proper music.

"No Katy Perry, ok?"

Blaine just flashed a cocky grin over his shoulder and began swaying his hips in a ridiculously exaggerated fashion, humming under his breath.

"What, I'm not your teenage dream anymore?"

Kurt crossed his arms, still smiling.

"No, my teenage dream was someone who would actually realize that he was in love with me while we were still teenagers."

Clapping his hand to his heart in an exaggerated display of pain, Blaine crossed to Kurt to lace their fingers together.

"Touché." Blaine tugged on Kurt's hand until their entwined fingers rested against his chest, trapped in between their two warm bodies. Blaine's gaze was all amber warmth through a curtain of dark lashes as he leaned forward for a gentle kiss, closed mouth and soft, but no less passionate. As they broke apart, Kurt impishly looked around the room.

"What do you think, Blaine? Is it safe or did my dad hide one of those nanny-cams in a stuffed animal that he then strategically placed in full view of the bed?"

Blaine's eyes widened in mock worry.

"Forget stuffed animals. If he disguised it as a bottle of moisturizer we would never be able to tell the difference."

Kurt scoffed and struggled to hit him in the chest but Blaine was still holding him too tightly for him to get any leverage. Blaine caught his eyes again, looking more serious than ever.

"You know what we'll just have to do then, don't you?" Blaine leaned forward, his warm breath tickling Kurt's ear and sending delicious shivers down his spine. "Looks like we're just going to have to have sex somewhere other than the bed."

Kurt just stared at him for a long breathless moment, caught off guard by how his beautiful, incredible boyfriend could have been so resistant and terrified of this moment for so long, only to transform within the space of the moment to the warm and confident boy that held him and joked, and somehow managed to make sex ridiculously cheesy and hot and overwhelming and precious and everything all at the same time.

Kurt surged forward to bring their lips together again, open-mouthed and hot, one hand clenching spasmodically on Blaine's waist, the other still caught between their bodies.

He felt Blaine smile into the kiss, as if he were the one who was winning something in this moment, pushing his hips forward insistently, driving Kurt back into the wall behind him and dragging his hand up and across his chest, leaving sparks of warmth in the wake of his fingertips. Fingers painted over the arch of his collarbone, eventually sliding up to cradle the side of his neck, the lightness of his teasing touch almost incongruous with the driving fire that pushed their hips together over and over again.

Blaine let the pads of his fingers brush across Kurt's pulse point, feeling the fire of his racing heart send a current directly to his cock, the passion spilling into the warmth of his breath and the cool slide of his lips and tongue against Kurt's jaw line, closing the circuit, fire circling endlessly from one body to the other. The warmth and tightness inside was spiraling higher and higher as Kurt's free hand clenched uselessly into the soft fabric of Blaine's t-shirt.

And all too sudden it was all too much, and Kurt managed enough leverage to push Blaine off of him with a gasp. Blaine blinked at him, eyes hazy with sex under impossibly long lashes, brow just beginning to furrow in confusion.

"We go without for a little over a month, and it's like our first time all over again," Kurt gasped out with a laugh. Blaine's confusion eased, to be replaced with a look that was both teasing and steamy in equal measure.

"What, you were close already just from that?" Blaine reached out to grip Kurt's hips firmly in both hands before continuing, his voice low and rich with heat. "I must really rock your world." Blaine's eyes sparkled with teasing warmth as both boys relaxed into the easy banter that characterized all aspects of their relationship, up to and including sex.

Before Kurt could do anything more than let out an exasperated laugh, Blaine leaned forward and caught his lower lip in one sharp bite that made him shudder all the way down to his toes. Laughter was quickly replaced with a soft _oh._

Blaine slowly sunk to his knees in front of his boyfriend, mouth playfully ghosting down his body, warm puffs of breath just enough to hint at what was to come. Pausing to unhook Kurt's belt with nimble fingers, Blaine looked up with another heated glance through those lashes.

"Blaine," Kurt's call was more than half a whine, but he wasn't really sure if he was pleading with Blaine to hurry it up, or back off to give him a minute to calm down. Blaine either didn't understand his mixed message, or just chose to ignore it, as he smiled sweetly and slowly dragged down Kurt's zipper. And then his pants were pooling around his ankles, and Blaine's breath was doing more than ghosting across his erection, but pressing and mouthing against him through his boxer briefs, a soft warm wetness slowly seeping through the fabric and filling Kurt with a warm buzzing all the way to his fingertips.

Blaine slowly stood, muscles trembling at the effort it took to move so slowly, so controlled, letting his tongue catch at the hem of Kurt's shirt, and then his fingers were helping to push it out of the way as hot open mouth kisses laved across his tight stomach up onto his ribs. Kurt was trembling so violently he felt like he could come apart, as he leaned back into the wall hoping it would be enough to keep him from falling into a puddle of desire at Blaine's feet.

Blaine let the fabric of Kurt's shirt fall from his fingers to cup Kurt's face in both hands tenderly, his kiss spreading warmth and strength back into Kurt's trembling limbs. Kurt dropped his hands onto Blaine's shoulders, the fingers of one hand idly stroking at the soft curls at the base of his neck.

"This whole not using the bed thing is harder than I thought it would be," he said with a self-conscious laugh. But Blaine just smiled, pleased at his ability to turn his boyfriend, who was always so strong and composed, into a needy, writhing mess, only to put him back together again. He gently stroked his hands up and down Kurt's sides as he looked around the room.

"I think we can figure out a plan B." Tangling their fingers together again, Blaine crossed over to Kurt's vanity and sat on the chair. It only took the slightest tug of his hand before Kurt came willingly, sliding onto his lap to bring their mouths together again, tongues sliding together in a battle for dominance where the winner only won in his consuming desire to love the boy in front of him.

Kurt winced slightly as the denim of Blaine's pants rubbed roughly at the inside of his thighs. Blaine, catching his discomfort before Kurt even had a chance to fully process it himself, bodily lifted Kurt off of him and stood to remove his pants in a near frantic haste. Smiling a little breathlessly, Kurt made quick work of the rest of his clothing. Blaine raised his eyebrow, obviously contemplating making some joke about Kurt's eagerness, but in the end decided to just mutely copy Kurt's actions and strip off his shirt and boxers as well.

As Kurt tumbled back into the chair, pulling Blaine onto his lap with unrestrained enthusiasm and pressed their erections together in a hot, dry, yet incredibly wonderful slide, Blaine decided that he made the right choice. Grabbing blindly at the vanity as stabs of lust rocketed through his body, Blaine pulled his mouth off of his boyfriend's shoulder with a wet pop in response to the distraction of bottles of moisturizer rolling around together in a wild dance.

A laugh and a flush from one boy were answered with a mirrored expression in the other. Kurt's joke from earlier about it being like their first time proved to be true in more ways than just one. Sex had always been meaningful to both of them, but there was something about this time, something in the way that their bodies were merging back together after time apart, something in the beating of their hearts and the warmth of mingled breath that felt like something more; something new.

The pace increased, the rhythm jerky, the movements irregular. But neither boy stopped, neither pulled away in an attempt to do something more, something different, something that was more conventionally lined up with definitions of sex. In this moment, the slide of their bodies together was all they needed.

As they came down together, out of breath and more than a bit of a sticky mess, Kurt let out a snorting laugh.

"Apparently, being in my high school bedroom means we might as well be teenagers again."

Blaine grinned cheekily at him.

"You think this is bad, imagine if we had ever had sex at Dalton." Even before he finished speaking, Blaine's eyes got a faraway look in them, and Kurt wasn't particularly interested in hearing where the rest of that train of thought led.

"Blaine!" Kurt punctuated his exclamation with a punch to his boyfriend's arm. "We are not sneaking into a highschool dorm to have sex. That's disgusting, not to mention illegal. Now get off so we can get cleaned up."

Blaine widened his eyes in mock innocence as he resisted Kurt's attempts to push him off his lap.

"But I already got off. Isn't that the problem?" Kurt began laughing helplessly and he let his arms fall to his sides and his forehead onto Blaine's shoulder. Blaine smiled and rubbed his hands up and down the sides of Kurt's arms.

"Don't worry, babe. We have all summer to get the hang of this again."

Kurt pulled back so he could meet his boyfriend's eyes.

"How about the rest of our lives?"

In the end, while Blaine did get off of Kurt's lap to clean up, it wasn't done in the conventional sense. And he never did verbally answer his last question.

But then again, words really weren't necessary.


End file.
